


When Is It Ever Going to Be Perfect?

by Replica_Jester



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dragon Age Erotica, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Hand Jobs, Intimacy, Loss of Virginity, NSFW, Oral Sex, Porn, Sex with Alistair, Tent Sex, Vaginal Fingering, clitoral stimulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 16:36:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5011939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Replica_Jester/pseuds/Replica_Jester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little over-the-clothes action encourages Alistair to take it to the next step...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Alistair broke from the kiss. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. He shifted his hips beneath her.

 "What for?“ she asked.

  He was ashamed to look her in the eye. “For… _that_.” The bulge at his groin, and for the fact that his hips arched into her at her kiss, as if in a mind of their own. But with her nestled on his lap, there wasn’t room to hide his desire. Even so, he couldn’t tear his hands from her hips.

 "I’d be more concerned if that didn’t happen.“ She placed her lips at the corner of his mouth, at his jaw. "Actually, I’d be offended.”

 Breath escaped him as her tongue grazed his neck between her lips. “But it’s just a kiss. I should be able to control myself.” Still, his hips swung to meet hers. He felt dirty for not being able to stop his own body.

 "If I can’t arouse the man who wants me with  _just a kiss_ , then I am doing it all wrong and it means I don’t really care what he experiences.“ His fingers dug into her bottom and his hardness pressed against her again as her tongue traced his jaw to his ear. He breathed her name as she closed over his earlobe with a little suck. Her fingers untangled themselves from his hair and slid over his shoulder, down this chest, paving a trail that had never been explored even above his clothes. He stopped her when she shoved her hand between their hips and cupped him.

 His hands were shaking as he held hers in a fist at her navel. "Not here. I don’t want to do this here.” He opened his eyes to find her trying to penetrate his gaze.

 "Alistair -“

 "It should be perfect. A bed, a bath tub, a door – Maker, I want privacy for this.”

 "We can’t even see the others,“ she reminded him.

 He closed his eyes again and let his head fall to her chin. "I want it to be perfect. I want to…I want to _know_  I love you, first. I don’t want this change how I feel. I don’t want you to become just…a way to relieve myself.”

 Her mouth pressed into his forehead. “It doesn’t have to be either-or, you know.”

 "But what if it does anyway? You mean more to me than the dirt beside the campfire. I want to carry you into bed…“

 She grabbed his hand and shoved it into her underpants, and even though it was her own move, she gasped. She was hot and slick. His fingers slipped all over as he felt around blindly. His own strength pressed against the back of his hand.

 "You’re soaking,” his voice broke. Her walls crushed around him when he curled his fingers, and his cock twitched just so. “Are you always this wet?” he groaned through his desire.

 "Only when you touch me.“ She swayed, looking a little delirious. "Or when you look at me. Or smile at me…breathe on my ear…” She made a sound when his fingers found a tiny button just below her curls. “I think you may actually retain more control that I am capable of.” Her fingers cupped his manhood again. He let out a moan when she cradled his balls with a gentle squeeze. “We don’t need to take off our clothes for this,” she whispered at his earlobe.

 He just sat there, soaking in the sensation of her stroking him through his pants and loincloth. He loved how she bloomed over his skin. He tumbled his fingers, and wearing her cream like a cloak, he massaged between her folds. When he grazed the tiny knob again, she  gave a whimper and her thighs seized, hips turning their full attention to him, and it made her tighten her grip on his cock. He laughed breathlessly into her neck, feeling more than proud of himself. “This tiny little thing makes you do all that, huh?” he huffed, pressing down on her knot with his middle finger.

 “Now that you know it’s there, you’d better use it,” she replied just as winded. She was literally panting in his hand.

 “It’s going to make me forget all my morals.” He kneaded faster, her legs quaked around him. Her heels dug clumsily into the back of his hips, slipping against his pants every few strokes of his finger. With his other hand, he found a bosom through her top. Even through her breast-band and the thick weave of her shirt, another knot collided with his finger; this woman had too many buttons. He squeezed her breast and thumbed at her nipple, dipping his other hand back up inside her to re-coat himself. The faster he plucked at both ends, the faster both of their hips moved. His body was all to eager too meet hers.

 Her hands stuttered over the laces of his trousers. Alistair bit along her neck and chin to bring her mouth back down to his, and as she plunged her hand down to liberate him, he kissed her. He gasped when fingers closed around his length. He scraped his teeth along her tongue, pushing his fingers in a circle between her folds and strumming her nipple, trying to keep up with her hands. She would have him spilling all over her in a second if she didn’t slow down. With one hand smashing his balls between her fingers and the other yanking like she was trying to summon him  _now_ , he was ready to submit. Ready to, but not wanting. He wasn’t willing to end this so quickly. He narrowed his hand and shoved his fingers in crisp enough to make her pause for breath. He dropped his other hand, and hesitated only to slick his thumb. With their arms a tangled mess, he pushed his hand in to the rhythm of her hips, egging her on with his other thumb. Between her writhing legs, she teased the slit of his growth, pulling on him, encouraging him to release.

 He craned his neck to bite into hers and she hissed through a gasp. He hung his forehead at her neck to watch their hands. He was swollen in her grip, with tiny beads of white clinging to his crown. She used these to lubricate him, and every stroke lifted him higher; he pushed his lips to her collar in appreciation. He watched her smalls stretch to the pulse of his hand. He watched his fingers, glossy and covered in white cream, disappear and reappear. He pumped faster, pushing his fingertips into the plush pillow he couldn’t see. Whenever her hips arched, he pressed into her with his thumb, manipulating the button that worked her thighs. She rubbed his sack with an open hand, and each time she descended, her finger grazed between his buttocks and sent a shiver up his spine.  

 Her name escaped his throat in a plead. He suctioned his mouth her neck and lashed with his tongue, and her bottom slid until her hips crashed into his, pinning their arms between them. He hooked his hand around the bone beneath her soaking cushion and pushed her back, and the sound she made struck his whole body. His trio stuttered in the attempt to hold off so she could come first. She begged him, so near closure that she crushed his fingers from within. Instinctively his hips thrust higher and faster, pushing his small head into her belly.

 She fell into the crook of his neck with a moan that froze and shook her whole body. He’d caused her to crumble upon his lap, even though he wasn’t done yet. As her voice waned, he removed his fingers, her flaming ramparts slurping at his departure, and she moaned again. He rubbed her nectar over his hardness. She whispered his name, and he moved his head to kiss her. Even her lips were weak. He wrapped her fingers around his cock and then pressed his hand over hers; he wanted the victory to be hers. He guided her squeeze through each hard tug. She reclaimed enough of herself cling to his shoulder and dance the tip of her tongue up the side of his neck. She didn’t even make it to his ear when he lost it. Knotted all throughout his groin, he shuddered as the heat rushed though. He spilled out on to the open belly of her shirt like the crashing tide. His shoulders shook violently, his escalation leaving him nothing more than a rag doll melted to her front.

 She held him as he recovered. It was so different with her. Nothing ever felt as good when he was just experimenting with himself. Even though it was only the second time he’d come with her, it was so much better. Stronger. He certainly couldn’t take his own breath away.

 He wanted to tell her he loved her. It felt like he loved her…but he was afraid it would sound like he only loved her for what she did to him.

 “That was awfully proficient for a Chantry boy,” she said into his hair. He laughed, softly at first, then in cascading giggles that embarrassed him a little. “How did you know to do all that?” She was definitely teasing him now.

 “I didn’t.” He gave another breathless giggle. “I just did what made you squirm the most.” Her mouth stretched into a grin at his temple, and he kissed the cleft of her collar bone. He lifted his head and found her eyes. She looked spent. Even in the orange glow of the firelight, she was flushed; he could only imagine how red  _he_  was. She was still breathing hard, too, though she was controlling it better. He pressed into her face for a kiss, and she gave a groan of satisfaction. “So, I guess this means it doesn’t have to already be perfect, then.” He held her kiss a little longer. “I guess we can make it perfect, no matter where we are. Can’t we?”

 “That is…ridiculously romantic, Alistair.” She giggled into his mouth. “Maker!” she gasped. “You’re ready again, aren’t you?”

 He couldn’t help his laugh, feeling a bit sheepish. “This whole thing started because you didn’t believe me when I said your kisses excite me.” He reached up and unfastened the top button of her under blouse. She looked down as he unbuttoned the second, then met his eyes. “I guess I’m more ready than I thought,” he told her. He grabbed her bottom lip with his teeth and secured her in another kiss. “May I have you?” he asked. “All of you?”

 She pressed into him with a hard kiss, bracing his shoulders. “Every single inch.”


	2. Pt 2 - Alistair's First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair becomes a man *sly smile*

She pushed off his lap. He trailed her arms as they nearly slipped from him. He clasped her hands, staring up in to her eyes. He allowed her to pull him to his feet, and met her mouth with a kiss, holding her face. His standing manhood slipped under her open shirt and hugged her belly. Everything was sweet, her lips, her hands, the warmth of her body against his. As long as he was with her, it would be perfect. He bent his knees and picked her up, and just stood for a moment to relish the position it put them in. Had it not been for her clothes, he’d be inside of her. Just like that. He took a deep breath and met her eyes.

“Okay, sometime – not right now, and not so close to a fire – we should try it like this,” he breathed. She giggled and bit the corner of her bottom lip slyly, and he nearly lost it. “Tent. Now. Yes, I know,” he said with a smile. She pressed her mouth to his as he carried her the few steps to their tent. He carefully lowered himself, keeping a steady hand on her back so she wouldn’t fall, and he pushed the flap aside. He gently laid her down on the bedmats. He hesitated just a blink, leaving her only to push the tent flaps as open as it would go.

“You’re not worried someone might see?” she asked.

“It’s so dark in here, though. Apparently the men who invented the idea of bear-hide-tents were eunuchs and didn’t have a beautiful assassin to make love to.”

Even in what little light shone in, she gazed at him with a look of adoration. Then, her eyes flew wide open. “Oh! We have a lantern, now!” she remembered excitedly.

“Ooh! That’s right! We do!” He started to leave again, then turned back. “Don’t undress. That’s  _my_ job.” It was worth it to be bossy just to see her bite her lip again. His manhood still out in the open, he left the tent to grab the unused lantern off the backpack. He borrowed flame from the campfire to light the lantern’s fuse, and then crawled back in the tent to his woman. She giggled again.

“What if Sten had seen you like that? Or Zevran? Or Morrigan?” she teased with a wide grin.

“Oh, that’s cruel!” he laughed. “I think I’d be a frog right now,” he joked. He watched her as he adjusted the brightness of the lantern.

“Do you really want to do this?” she asked.

“There is not a doubt in my mind.” He set the lantern where he thought it would be safest. “Okay, that _wiggly_  thing you do with your legs?” he asked, animating the best he could with his hand, and her face scrunched in embarrassment. “Just try not to knock the lantern over. Otherwise we’ll surely die in a painful burning of utter bliss,” he teased. He grinned at the pink in her cheeks.

He pulled off his shirt and come over her, and she groaned when her hands met his bare chest. “I love it when you make that sound,” he told her. He brushed her lips with his, and again. Her fingers raking down his front left trails of electricity.

“That  _uhhhn_  sound?” she murmured.

“That’s the one.” He smiled though the kiss, propping himself up on one hand to conquer the forsaken buttons of her blouse. “You make that sound when I kiss your ear, too.” He moved just enough to plant a light kiss on her earlobe. He flickered his tongue inside her ear, and she gave a little whimper, her fingers clenching at his navel causing his hips to drift toward her.

She reached between them with one hand to try to help him with her shirt. He slid right down against her center when she wrapped her legs around his waist, and he broke from her kiss with stolen breath. Their fingers stumbled over each other at her chest, and her pants were becoming a nuisance. He held his weight on his knees and took over control of her shirt. Her skin was sweet beneath his tongue, and every time he breathed on her, she gave a little shudder and curled in around him.

He pushed up to roll the shirt off her shoulders, her back arching, bringing her bosoms to his face as he freed her arms. He moved the breast-band out of the way with chin and planted a kiss, tossing the shirt behind him. He tickled his fingers up her thighs and beyond, and she squirmed with a squeal and a shriek of laughter as when he tumbled his fingertips just above her hips. He grinned, definitely full of himself right now. It didn’t matter when or where, he just loved that squeal and the wiggle of her body against his when he tickled her. He gently closed his teeth on her, then kissed the bite tenderly, and slid his hands under her back to remove her breast-band.

“Okay,” he said, sitting back. “So when I wear that dress and dance the Remigold for you,” he paused for the violent smirk of anticipation on her face.  “Do you think I should wear this?” He held up the band to his own chest. “Hm. I’m a bit wide. But  _damn_  if I don’t nearly fill it up!” he sounded pleasantly surprised. She giggled hard, and he came crashing down into her with a rise and squeeze of her thighs. She flung the band somewhere behind him and secure her lips to his. It was his turn to groan, now, as her tongue spilled into his mouth.

He sat back – started to sit back, but decided his pants and smalls needed to go. He shoved both down his hips and left them in a pile behind his feet. The look on her face when he turned back to her stretched him. She stared at his manhood, standing solid, ready for her. Her breasts rose and sank with heavy breath. Her whole face looked of wanting.

Her hands faltered at her pants, her arms shaking in her hurry to close the distance between them. Alistair came down over her and together they pushed her pants and smalls past her hips and the plush curve of her bottom. She kicked until both pants loosened to her ankles, and he pulled them off, not caring where he threw them.

And there she was, in all her bare glory. Maker, she was beautiful. Lying there waiting – for  _him,_ her desire for  _him_ to have her, for  _his_ touch. He reached for her hips, and buried his face in her curls. He took in scent, her smell alone causing his cock to twitch. He breathed through his own yearning to just feel her. He wanted to know her, to memorize it all. He nuzzled her hair. It was silky, and a little course against his forehead. He opened his eyes and saw her folds, the same ones that swallowed his hand just moments ago by the fire, open and beckoning with the silent lure that they were. He tested a finger at her hole; she gasped sharply and her hips rose to his face. He pushed in two fingers, drawing a moan from her, and he grinned. She was still sopping from when she had gushed around his hand. Maker, what he wouldn’t give to spend the rest of his life making this woman squirm beneath his hands…

He turned his face in to nuzzle her again, and his nose collided with that magical button he had fun playing with earlier. He hooked his arm around her thigh and reached around to push her hair back. There it was, that little knot, carefully cradled beneath the little cushion that grew her curls. Even her body knew how precious it was.

He raised his eyes to her face. She was watching him, her forehead creased in aching pleasure. He grinned again, before he even wiggled his fingers inside of her. Another moan escaped her, and when he curled his fingers inside, her hips shimmied. He wondered if watching was flustering her even more.

The Templars used to talk during down time about the women they’d had, about what they’d used to do, or if it was a woman Templar, what a man did to her or what she’d done to another woman. They’d spoken of  _licking_ _the_ _nub_ , because it made her writhe and come crawling back for more. Alistair had eavesdropped on it all.

He wondered if it would make Tess writhe. He watched her as he opened his mouth. Her breasts rose sharply before he even stuck his tongue out. He was grinning again by the time he actually pressed the tip of his tongue to her  _nub_. He kept his eyes on her to watch for her reactions. He pressed in with his hand, delving as deep as he could, and though it was setting a rhythm for her hips, it was his tongue that performed miracles. His own hips even rutted against the bedmat, pushing to her very rhythm.

She was silky beneath his tongue. He wet her with his saliva, and then tickled the tip of his tongue over her. He pushed his lips in to kiss it, and then lashed. The lashing was her undoing. Her thighs fluttered around him like a violent quake and she kept arcing up.  _That’s it._ He had to push her belly down to keep lashing that exact way. The longer he wiggled his tongue, the more her body squirmed. She was whimpering, even begging him, and she was protruding now, her tiny button no longer shy to his touch. He closed his lips tight around it and gave a suckle, and her hand grabbed a fistful of his hair, sending a shiver down his spine and jerking his groin. The sounds she made were a continuous blur of whining and sighs. He pressed his fingers up into the pillow inside of her while he licked. He was just as desperate for her release as she was, but he couldn’t leave her passage without seeing just what he was capable of doing to her. He grazed her knot between his teeth, and she curled up in a sharp jolt, her voice breaking as a rush of liquid heat flushed around his fingers. Her thighs threshed around his head like stormy seas, and continued to stutter even after she fell limp upon the bed.

He sat up and looked at her, her hand falling from his hair to her curls. She gave a sigh with a lift of her hips as he pulled his fingers out of her center. “Do you have  _any_ idea how fun it is to do that?” he teased her. She laughed breathlessly, looking at him. She was flushed and spent again, and she looked ridiculously happy.

“No,” she shook her head. “I can’t possibly imagine!” She huffed out another giggle, and he just sat there watching her with a smile that felt goofy and proud. He leaned his head against her knee, tangling his fingers beneath hers at her curls. He was hard rock and standing at full attention, but he could wait. Maker, he was so lucky. She was beautiful and she adored him, and he could liberate her.

He held up his messy fingers. “You know, it’s a shame this isn’t blue.”

“Blue?” she asked as if she hadn’t heard him correctly. He laughed a little.

“Yes, blue. Or, you know, green. War paint.” He smeared her cream over his cheek and across his nose to the other side of his face. He looked at it in the light, shiny, pearly on his skin. He put his tongue out. She tasted just as she smelled, rich, a little sweet, a little salty. The scent and taste was unique to his experience and he had nothing to compare them to except for her. This was how his woman tasted.

He caught her expression and he smirked. She had an eyebrow up in great interest as he ran his tongue along his finger. He grinned again stuck his two wet fingers in his mouth, and her brow jumped even further as he pulled his fingers back out of his lips. He leaned over and touched his lips to hers. “Somebody likes to watch…” he sang softly. Her hands found his shoulder and the back of his head.

“You put on quite the show,” she murmured.

“So do you. I like that little dance you do,” he said. Her lips stretched against his as they kissed. Her hand trickled down his chest and landed on his nipple, and his groin leapt forward and brushed her curls.  He groaned through a hard kiss. “You’re such a minx.”

“I am guilty and in need of prolonged discipline, Your Majesty,” she muttered.

A hiss escaped his teeth as she plucked at both nipples, now. “Oh, you’ll get  _something,”_ he promised.

“Like this?” Her hand suddenly closed around his cock, and he lost balance. He gasped a laugh and took her wrist, bracing himself back up over her.

He pinned her wrists near her shoulders. He could feel his own desire seeping out through his stare. “Not yet.”

She scoffed. “You tyrant king!”

He grinned and leaned in for another kiss, soft, though, despite his teasing tone and the hold on her wrists. He just kissed her, not bothering with anything else for a while. He brought her arms around behind him and he met her eyes. “I love you, Tess,” he told her. “You asked me earlier if I was ready, and I absolutely am. You’re the closest person to my heart. I can’t think of a better person to give myself to.”

She stared back. Her hand found his face, and he kissed her thumb. As soon as she opened her mouth, he moved his hand. “I lo-” she broke off in a gasp as he pressed down on the swollen knot at her center. He laughed into her gaping mouth and kissed her.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that!” he giggled, wetting his finger inside of her. She started to speak, but he circled her to steal her breath again. She giggled though his teasing left her gasping. “I still didn’t catch-” she cut him off this time, shoving her mouth into his, gripping the hair at the back of his head like she was trying to pull it.

“I love you!” she breathed fiercely. “I love you, Alistair,” she repeated in a sigh.

He grinned like a goof. “See? Was that so hard?” he teased. Their lips met in a flock of giggles that quickly returned to passion. His breath turned heavy in his chest as she hiked her legs back over his hips. He squeezed her thighs as he ran his hands back up the softness beneath him. When he blindly discovered her breast, he groaned loudly. He left her lips to suckle her. Her hips arched toward him every time he plucked, so pluck he did. Between his forefinger and thumb, he kneaded one nipple, circling his finger over the end of pebble flesh. His mouth was over the other. He took in as much of her as he could, suctioning his tongue as he sucked. He smothered himself, his breath desperate from his nose buried in her silky pillow. Just like the other button, her hips curled when his tongue flickered.

Her fingers found the tip of his cock, and he trembled. When she stroked his length, his elbows wobbled. He whispered her name and pushed back. They just looked at each other for a moment.

He sat back and looked down. Maker, this was happening! He held his shaft and brought it to her center, but he hesitated. A fat little bead of white adorned the top of his crown. He slid his small head along her blush, offering what little seed might be in there. He glanced at her when she pleaded his name, but he kept sliding anyway, partly to tease her, partly to just feel her.

A spur-of-the-moment idea nearly had him laughing before he could pursue it. He placed the eye of his crown to her precious knot, and he made a loud smooching noise with his lips. She burst out laughing and covered here face with her arms, and Alistair sank to her belly in a fit of giggles that burned his cheeks and ears.

Before either of them could stop laughing, he plunged, turning their giggles into moans in a single move. He braced himself above her, and her hips rolled back, opening up to him. He watched as he pulled out, only to sink back in, completely closing the gap between their bodies. Intimacy kept catching him off-guard: Grinding against their clothes had felt amazing, and then her hands had proved that wrong, and now this.  _Oh, Maker, there is nothing better than this!_  He thrust his loins into hers, never fully pulling out before diving back in. Her hot walls crushed him from every angle, coddling him as her own, coaxing him back as he pulled, absorbing him as he returned home. Her breasts bounced as his hips rocked her. The deeper he drove, the more she bounced, and he plummeted that deep just watch her breasts jiggle.  _Did she truly know how sexy she was?_

“ _Faster,”_ she begged him. “ _Please!”_  She moaned brokenly.  “ _Alistair!”_ He obeyed the whimpering goddess beneath him, and she cried out loudly. Her hands dug into his bottom, spreading his cheeks as she sought his relief. She kept clenching tighter and tighter around him, and it surfaced some of those sounds he didn’t know he could make, sounds he didn’t know either of them could make.

 _Dammit!_  He was close. He didn’t want to finish without her, but at this rate she would fall behind. He paused for just a second, pushed himself up higher and readjusted himself, and she lost it. Before he even had time to thrust again, she locked up like a half-moon into him. Every part of her body was turned in toward him. Her whimper was loud and wailing and constant. He moved his head and found her mouth, and he kissed her just to feel her broken moans tickle his skin.

He slowly rocked again, giving her time to catch her breath. Her shoulders still trembled as she slid her hands up his back, tickling him whether she meant to or not. The tickle took it to a whole new level for him, though. He felt the sensation all the way down to his groin, but also in his spine up to his head, and down to his toes. It reminded him of another sensation that shook his whole body.

“ _My ear, Tess,”_  his voice cracked. She obeyed instantly, cradling his head in the crook of her arm to reach his ear. Her tongue ran flat along the rim of his ear, but then, the flicker. His breath shuddered him. The knot in his groin grew harder with every tease of her tongue. Alistair found the button, now just above where his cock was pumping, and her teeth closed over his ear with a mewl. He slowed his hips and massaged her knot quickly, trying to bring her back up with him. Her tongue wiggled in his ear,  and it jolted down to add to his heat. Her hips rocked faster under his thumb, and he had no choice but to meet her pace. He grunted as he crashed into her hips, hammering as fast as he could. _Maker, I can’t take it any longer!_

“ _Tess!”_ he couldn’t even finish begging. He rubbed her faster, and the second her thighs clenched around him, he let go, spilling himself as far as he could push inside of her, his voice giving way the ecstasy in falsetto. Through the jerking of his hips that finished him, he continued circling with his thumb until she melted up into him again. His loins gave one last jerk, and he unraveled to nothing more than mush.

Her thighs high around him kept him there, and also inside of her. Alistair just laid there, smothering himself with her breasts. Breath was a luxury after love-making, apparently. He couldn’t believe they hadn’t done this before.

“Next time I try to tell you to wait, just tie me down and take me then and there,” he murmured.

Her breasts bounced with her little laugh. “We have rope and belts. I can do this.”

He scrunched his face and laughed into her breasts.  He took a deep breath, and lifted his head to look at her. He planted a single kiss on her nearest nipple, and let his chin rest on her perfect little pillow. “You know, according to the Sisters at the monastery, I should have been struck by lightning by now.”

She smiled. He let his eyes blink slowly as her fingers tingled their way through his hair. “Is that so?” she mused.

“Yep. Lightning first, then the end of civilization as we know it. I am a bad, bad man.” He turned his head to kiss the underside of her wrist. Then he giggled ferociously. “We were both very, very loud.”

She instantly flushed and covered her face with her hands, and he moved up to kiss her, eliciting a groan from both of them as he departed from her center. “And I mean,  _loud_ ,” he teased. “Our little party is going to talk. You realize that?” He kissed her again, settling in right next to her.

“First smart comment, and I feed them to the Darkspawn,” she said with a glint in her eyes.

He took her head in his hand and turned her in for a kiss. “You see? This is why I love you,” he breathed. “You make everything perfect.”


End file.
